Roommate Wanted
by Fortem
Summary: All Draco wants is to reclaim his family's honor. Harry just doesn't want to see people get hurt. The tights just kind of came with the superpowers thing but sharing an apartment was probably more of a problem. A story of love, revenge, and disguises. College AU
1. Discoveries and Arrivals

_Harry_

Some people were just special, chosen.

And it fucking sucked.

Harry didn't plan on saving the world. He was just an orphan, I mean how many orphans turned into superheroes anyways?

He first realized that he was special, that he was different, when he was eleven. It started with things moving. Nothing big, just a glass tipping over when he got angry, a gym bag seeming to move just slightly as his horrible cousin, Dudley walked by. Nothing that couldn't be explained by a strange fluke. Then, it got weirder. Dudley's cereal spilt into his lap, his cruel teacher's desk chair moved back as she tried to sit down, and once, when Dudley and his terrible friends had chased Harry into a tree, it got really weird. He had climbed up to avoid the inevitable beating that they were sure to inflict on him if he had stayed in arms reach. The problem was that as a cruel as Dudley was, he was twice as stubborn. He and his nasty friends resolved to stay down there, taunting Harry and playing cards until the younger boy would be forced to come down. Based on how dark it was getting, the moment was imminent, and then a branch fell. It didn't hit anyone, but a perfectly healthy branch cracked neatly and thudded down, right on top of the deck of playing cards. The three would be tormentors squealed and ran away, giving Harry just enough time to climb down and barricade himself in his cupboard under the stairs. It was as he sat panting in the dimly lit space that realized that he had wanted that to happen, he had willed it into happening and with a shaky hand, he focused all his might of the book in front of him, holding an outstretched hand towards it. He felt the strain as he focused, willing every ounce of energy his eleven year old self had into that book, and then he moved his hand. It hit the door with a thud, pages flying out as it collapsed on the ground like a broken bird and Harry felt a ferocious sense of triumph before he passed out.

 _Draco_

Family was crucial. The only real thing that mattered and Draco knew that his family was more important the most. The Malfoy name was the most important thing. His father had lunch with senators, disrespected diplomats with no fear of the consequences, and drafted laws that the mayor signed without reading. There were those who were the face of power and there were those who were smart enough to stay behind the scenes and pull the strings. His family had always been and would always be in the latter category.

Until it all went to shit. It started with one asshole with a beard like something out of a ridiculous fantasy novel. Albus Dumbledore had marketed himself as the one outside of the mainstream who would save Magicae City from the corrupt forces that sought to control it. The campaign had floundered in the beginning, people had questioned his legitimacy and his age, claimed he was too old for the stress that the position of Mayor would bring. Then the candidate had pulled out the ace up his sleeve. He had named one of those so called "corrupters," Lucius Malfoy, who he claimed was exploiting the weak-willed current mayor with bribes, as if Lucius would ever stoop so low. The damage to his father's reputation had been irreparable, even though all Lucius had ever done was keep crime low and the city flourishing. Then Dumbledore had gotten his friends in the DA office to create phony charges that the bought judge had made stick. His father was rotting in a prison cell for fraud bribery, and a litany of other bullshit while the Malfoy assets were frozen, permanently, under suspicion of embezzlement. Draco's life had imploded and then he had discovered the real family secret.

He had been so furious the morning his father had been arrested that he broke down in the main hall, screaming and shaking. It was only when he opened his eyes that he realized that he had floated to the very peak of the cathedral ceiling. He came crashing down the moment he knew what was going on and felt every bone in his body shatter against the stone ground. He screamed, contorting in agony and then it was over. He breathed shallowly, peering at his own hands in surprise, bones he had been so sure were broken, bones he had felt shatter were stitching back together underneath his skin. His leg was slowly coming back together and he almost threw up as he watched his kneecap slide back into place. He flopped back onto the ground, resolving not to look as his body healed. He panted shallowly as the pain faded, leaving the just barest echo of an ache under his skin.

As he laid there, shaking on the smooth stone, he realized that he was a freak, that there was something terribly wrong with him, and he was going to use it to destroy Albus Dumbledore.

…

 _Harry_

Harry's first choice may not have been his brightest. He told a priest, convinced that this was one of those miracles the father always mentioned when the Dursley's dragged him along to mass on Christmas and Easter. The father had tried to placate him at first, telling Harry that a branch falling was not evidence of God given powers but then Harry had demonstrated by knocking over a candle from across the room. The father had screamed, lifted his cross and shouted something about "Christ compelling" him. Suffice to say, Harry feigned sick on Christmas and Easter from that point forward.

It was then that he realized how horribly wrong this could go, if he wasn't careful. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon would most definitely ship him off to looney bin if they found out what he knew. Even if they believed him, such a strange feat would definitely classify him outside of the world of "normal" which was the most important virtue to strive for in their opinion.

He spent the next few days walking around in stunned awe, wondering if there was anyone else out there like him, if he wasn't alone. He couldn't be the only one, could he? If what he could do was possible, how could none of the other stories possible? There had to be other people like him out there, people with abilities. He just had to find them.

…

 _Draco_

School was an unfortunate necessity. His mother shipped him off to the most prim and proper boarding school that she could find, all to avoid getting out of bed in the aftermath. He didn't speak to the other kids, but they spoke about him frequently: how his family was an embarrassment, how he was always alone, and how he snuck out at weird times of night.

He left to practice. It took a couple of really hard landings before he truly got the hang of it, but he found himself gliding and circling through the air. He thought of himself like a fighter pilot, practicing the maneuvers he might need later. He spent the interim years developing a plan. He wouldn't just simply kill the man, oh no, that would be too easy. He was going to torture him, utterly and completely, and he was going to make sure that he knew when Draco came for him. That he knew that he was going to die.

…

 _Harry_

Harry didn't think much of it when he applied or the scholarship. It was just his name on a piece of paper. His guidance counselor had given him the form. He found himself toiling on his essay. "Name a time you overcame adversity" it felt like the easiest prompt on the planet because what could be said about his life other than that it was filled to the brim with adversity. He wrote about his parents, those mysterious people who had died in a car crash. Someone, some unnamed person had left him in a basket on the porch of his mother's estranged sister. As a result, he knew nothing about his parents. He wrote about the resulting lack of identity and apparently the admissions officer cried reading it. He got a full scholarship to Magicae University and a fresh start.

…

 _Draco_

His mother had a pittance of money still in her name when his father had been arrested, but his trust fund was off limits for all things beside his education, and considering the fund wouldn't change over into his name until his twenty first birthday, he still had to follow her rules. If he wanted to get into the city to begin the plan had been finalizing for years, he had to be attending college. He applied to Magicae University with a sneer, figuring the school was just far enough above a state school to not be a humiliation but easy enough that he could coast without putting too much effort into his studies.

He didn't even bother writing a real essay, just provided the url to one of the crueler depictions of his father's arrest and trial. He got in easily, though they didn't provide him with nearly as much merit grants as he should have been entitled to, not that it really mattered. School was not the point.

...

 _Harry_

Harry's leg was bouncing so violently that the old lady next to him on the train was starting to glare at him. He was going to look for apartments. They had moved him out of the cupboard when the nurse had commented on the bruises on his forehead from standing up too quickly too often after he had hit his growth spurt, but Dudley's second room, as it continued to be called, was nothing like freedom. The moment he had turned eighteen he had bought a train ticket and high tailed it out of there. His scholarship covered tuition, books, and room and board but he had made a small mistake. That July second housing deadline had actually been a June housing deadline and all the dorms were full. The university had been kind enough to provide a housing allowance and advised that he find an apartment soon. That was today's plan, find an apartment whose rent he could afford and plant himself in a motel in the meantime. His stuff was staying in a friend's garage until he could send them an address. He had hope, meager hope, but hope nonetheless. He had a new beginning and all he really needed now was an apartment.

...

 _Draco_

Draco needed an alibi. His plan was complex, lots of moving pieces, lots of late nights, and he would undoubtedly be a suspect from the moment he started. It would be best if there was someone around, some idiot that would vouch that he was home, especially when he wasn't. All he needed to do was find a lonely moron who could be trusted to stay in most nights and he had a very good idea of where to start.

...

 _Harry_

The cafe was cozy, warmly lit with black boards for walls and mismatched arm chairs surrounding tables on one side and bean bags in the corner. A cute guy with curly hair, big glasses, and a "Feminist" t shirt was playing guitar from the stage beside the bar. It seemed wonderful. He ordered a green tea with sugar and an everything bagel from a guy in a button up shirt with the sleeves rolled to reveal truly impressive tattoos. He got his food quickly and settled into a green chair in the corner, sinking into the plush cushions. Everyone around him was buzzing with life, couples on dates, people typing frantically on computers, and groups of friends chatting boisterously. He was giddy with it, all the opportunity. He could, he could do whatever he wanted here. He could explore, learn, even date! Everything was a new and wonderful opportunity stretched out in front of him.

Speaking of, right beside his chair was an ad, neatly written in an elegant script that Harry didn't even think people learned any more.

"Roommate wanted: own room in two bedroom apartment, must be tidy and respecting of privacy, obnoxious frat boys need not apply. Rent is $150 a month. " It was followed by a neatly printed phone number.

$150 a month! That was insane, way cheaper than anything that he had ever seen before. He had to get that apartment. He typed the number into his phone and looked around nervously before erasing the ad quickly with his hand. If he was the only applicant, they had to take him right?

 _Draco_

His mother bought the condo, a spacious flat in a nice neighborhood close to the university. She told him to use the second bedroom as a library but he had other plans. The ad had been up in the coffee shop for days and he hadn't heard a word, he wondered idly if he had asked for too high of a rent, he didn't know what people paid for things like that, it wasn't something he had ever thought about.

His phone rang suddenly one afternoon, the shrill ringtone cutting through the quiet in his room. The caller was unknown but he picked up anyways.

"Draco Malfoy speaking." He greeted curtly.

"Hello?" The other voice was breathy, as if they were running. Weirdo.

"Who is this?" Draco demanded.

"Oh, sorry, duh. I'm Harry, Harry Potter." The guy stumbled over his words. Good, he was an idiot.

"I'm assuming that you're calling about the apartment." Draco suggested.

"Yeah! I'm very interested, like very very interested. Can I come by and see it?" He asked cheerily.

"How soon can you move in?" Draco asked, he couldn't wait around for this genius to get out of an old lease, he needed them to move in immediately.

"Today?" Potter offered hopefully, yup definitely an idiot.

"Come over at two today; 223 Fides apartment 27b." Draco ordered gruffly.

"Awesome! Oh! I almost forgot, can I get your name? So I can make out the check?" He chirped.

"Draco Malfoy. Google it before you come." He snapped, hanging up quickly. If Potter held a grudge against him for his father, he just wouldn't show up and then Draco wouldn't have to deal with it. He'd keep it a secret but then when it all came out down the line, Potter might refuse to give an alibi if Draco's family history was a surprise.

...

 _Harry_

Okay, so his roommate was a bit of a prick, but there were worse things. Like being homeless. Harry could be civil even when dealing with pricks, it was practically his specialty in high school. He was buzzing with energy as he continued his loop around the park. There was a park here, with people skateboarding, and feeding geese and living, nothing like Little Whinging. It was only noon now but Harry felt like he could run to Fides Street. He was buzzing with joy at his freedom, everything was beginning. A hot dog stand's umbrella spun and a child's soda exploded as he walked by. Oops, he was a little too excited. That wouldn't do. Something told him that super powers weren't a well liked trait in perspective renters.

 _Draco_

Harry Potter had no social media presence, no newspaper articles written about him, and no apparent connections with anyone. In other words, he was perfect.

The knock came at exactly 2:07, seven minutes past when Draco had told him to arrive, but not so grievous an error as to not open the door, not that he'd actually open the door.

"Come in!" Draco snapped, focusing on the fake lease he had whipped up in the last few minutes. Potter's rent would be good pocket money during the coming months, not that Potter really needed to worry about that.

"Hey, sorry I'm late. Harry Potter." He introduced himself in a rush, adjusting the strap of his off kilter backpack and blowing the untamed beast of a head of black hair out of his face.

"Draco Malfoy." Draco shook the outstretched hand and was forced to acknowledge that Harry Potter was in fact, ridiculously attractive. He had bright green eyes and while that mop of hair was horrifying, it was also sex hair, as in, pull on it while he gives you a very enthusiastic blow job hair. His jaw was strong, his nose straight and proportional, and he was actually kind of ridiculously tall. If Draco had a thing for charmingly disastrous twinks, which he didn't, Potter would be just his cup of tea.

"You have to pay have rent, utilities, etc. I keep odd hours and if you touch my stuff I'll break your face." He listed brusquely, presenting the lease with fake confidence. He really needed that alibi.

"Anything else I should be aware of?" The other man asked, puppy dog eagerness disgustingly present.

"You googled me right?" Draco checked, well aware he could be shooting himself in the foot, but he couldn't have this fool finding out later and changing his story, there was too much risk.

"Look man this is by far the cheapest, nicest apartment within walking distance of my classes and I missed the deadline for housing, so you could be an axe murderer and I would still sign that lease." Fuck, maybe he lowballed that rent price, it's not like he actually knew how much people paid in rent.

"Google me." He repeated firmly.

"You know what, no, if it's really that bad, tell me, if not, I don't give a shit if you're technically a sex offender because you streaked at your high school football game." He signed with a flourish, smirking as he did. "That's not it, is it? Because come on, that would be pretty impressive if I guessed it, wouldn't it?" Harry grinned, as if he thought his overeager, puppy like routine would actually work. Not that it was working, at all.

"So, when can I move in?" Potter asked hopefully, and that, that was probably going to be a problem.

A/N: Hello, so this story just kind of happened. It was inspired by a Tumblr text post that I saw on Cosmo's snapchat story. I don't want to cite it specifically just yet because spoilers but the idea of superhero roommates is not mine.

Disclaimer: I have nothing against state schools or frats, Draco will say lots of mean things, just go with them.

Some fun facts:

223 is the length of the Philosopher's Stone. Fides is faith in latin, which is vaguely based on how Malfoy means bad faith in French.

The cafe is a creation of my imagination that is a combination of a certain university's admissions office and what comes up when you google "hipster cafe."

I will try to update again as soon as possible, but reviews definitely feed the muse so drop me a review with your thoughts, I'd love to hear them.


	2. Moving In and Friends

_Harry_

"Do you really want to move in tonight?" Malfoy asked, his eyes focusing on the white tile. Harry's eyes lingered on his sweats. He didn't think the other man had noticed just how low those had slipped or the sharp hip bone that was revealed as a result. Harry shrugged and slung his backpack on the counter. Draco flinched but he ignored it in favor of pulling out the first wad of cash MU had given him for housing.

"Here's your money." He offered easily. Draco gaped.

"You've been carrying that around?" He demanded. Harry felt the color rise on his cheeks.

"I mean. I stopped at the bank first." He admitted, shrugging. Draco continued staring like he was crazy.

"Google me first." Draco repeated. Harry rolled his eyes. He was almost a hundred percent sure that they had already covered that bit.

"What you're not concerned about my background?" Harry protested. A little offended, what, was he not threatening?

"I already checked you out Potter." Draco scoffed as if reading his mind. Harry fixed his beanie self-consciously.

"So my googling is the only thing stopping me from moving in right now?" Harry pushed.

"Yes." Draco turned away, heading for his fridge. When he opened it, Harry's mouth watered a little at the full to the brim fridge. He glanced around again at the open kitchen with marble counters, the floor to ceiling windows, and matching furnishing. He was just starting to notice how far away this was from a typical college apartment. He had never been so happy to have missed a deadline.

"Then I'm going to start unpacking and send for my stuff." Harry resolved.

"Where were you planning on staying tonight?" Draco asked, the least hostile his tone had ever been.

"Didn't know. Guess it's a good think you took me in huh?" Harry joked, smiling.

"You're actually an idiot." Draco announced like it was a particularly surprising but pleasant revelation. Harry decided not to take offence.

"Good thing that doesn't make my money any less good, huh?" Harry suggested. When it was clear Draco wasn't going to say anything more, Harry shrugged and headed down the hallway.

"First door on the left is you!" Draco called. Harry shrugged and nudged open the plain white door. Inside was large, way larger than he had been expecting. What was this, a penthouse? The other big surprise was that it was furnished. There was a massive bed with the headboard against the left wall and the same floor to ceiling windows on the far wall. There was a desk beside him and he casually dropped his backpack down beside him. Holy shit. He had dreamed of this room, except in his dream it was included with his third job when he was actually making money, doing something.

He sighed, his excitement from this morning finally draining. He dropped heavily on the bed and bounced. That would be nice to put to use at some point. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, lazily calling his only friend from home. It rang once before it picked up.

"What's up?" Ron Weasley answered cheerily. Ron had lived five streets over Harry's entire life but they had only met in fifth grade when the elementary schools merged into one large middle school. Ron had few friends because of his family's lack of money and took to Harry's lonely self right away. Now he was heading to Magicae City Community College. For now, he was commuting just like his dad commuted to work in the city.

"Mate, I found a place." He announced with pride.

"That soon?" Ron questioned, surprised. Harry was positively giddy with triumph.

"Yeah, this pompous twat named Draco Malfoy put this fucking sick place up for a fraction of the rent that it's worth." Harry explained gleefully. Maybe his luck really was turning after all.

"Draco Malfoy? Do you know what" Ron started, protesting frantically. He always was dramatic.

"No. He told me to Google him and I said no. I don't care." Harry stressed.

"Mate, you really should…" Ron tried again.

"I don't want to." Harry repeated.

"Fine." Ron gave in. "But think about it all right?" He insisted.

"I will." Harry conceded.

"Good, so what's the place like?" Ron asked giddily. Harry could only imagine how Ron would react to a place like this.

"Fucking amazing. You should visit one weekend." He suggested. That had always been the plan anyways, to hit up parties together in the city.

"I don't think so." Ron laughed as if the idea was ludicrous. Harry was a little hurt to be honest.

"Why not?" He demanded.

"My family and the Malfoys don't exactly get along." Ron explained with a tone that suggested he was most definitely leaving something out.

"Does this have to do with why everyone wants me to Google him?" Harry demanded, a little peeved.

"Yeah." Ron answered with a chuckle.

"Mate, my past is fucked up but I get to leave it behind, why shouldn't he?" Harry demanded, the logic perfectly clear in his mind. "You really are noble bastard." Ron observed.

"I try." Harry shrugged and idly waved towards his backpack. The bag floated easily to him, with a little more concentration he slid the zipper along to open the front pouch. He used his other hand to lift the card out and pulled it to him. He smirked in triumph for a beat before his bag crashed to the ground.

"What was that?" Ron squawked.

"Nothing, don't worry about it." Harry grumbled, looking at the card anyways. "When you get here you should really check out this little café, it's called the Chamber of Secrets."

"What kind of name is that? Sounds like a euphemism for twat." Ron laughed.

"I know right? But it's based on a children's book about wizards, never read it." Harry shrugged. The things people would spend their time reading.

"Yeah you never were one for fantasy." Draco

"No, always preferred reality." Harry smirked as he lifted his bag again and carefully redid the zipper.

"Never understood why, don't you get bored?" Ron asked, genuinely curious.

"No, not really." He admitted honestly, spinning his bag with an easy circle of his finger. He got it to go faster and faster and fast until the canvas started to some before stopping it and dropping it on the mattress.

"You're an odd one." Ron declared with exasperation. Harry laughed.

"You could say that." You could also say that he was a freak, a demon, or a crime against humanity but he preferred special. Euphemism were nice that way.

"Are you going to try to pull tonight?" Ron asked his voice a little giddy. He was also far too nosy, "Nah, I'm a little tired, I think I'm just going to unpack a little and go to bed." He admitted.

"C'mon, mate I need you to pull through here. Only one of us gets to actually live the bachelor life. I'm living through you." Ron reminded him. He rolled his eyes. Bachelor was not the first term he'd use to describe himself.

"Trust me mate, you wouldn't want to hear about who I'd pull if I went out tonight." He mocked. Ron had never had an issue with his sexuality, he had always just been a little grossed out by the details.

"But I thought you thought that you were bi?" Ron whined. Harry laughed.

"Exactly and I've had to pretend to be straight for years, do you really think the first person I hook up with is gonna be female?" He laughed. Not that he had even really had much success pulling girls in the past, that was part of the reason he still put probably in front of his sexuality. He hadn't told Ron yet but he was ninety percent sure he was gay. But who knew, maybe the perfect girl would walk down the street tomorrow? He didn't really like labels.

"C'mon! Can't you help a bloke out just this once?" His friend begged. Harry rolled his eyes.

"I am not your own personal spank bank Ron Weasley, if you want to hook up with someone, you've gotta make the move." He advised, at least he was ninety percent sure that that was how it worked.

"How? I don't have a car, I live in a house with my parents and my younger sister and I'm in the literal middle of nowhere." He whined. Ah the perils of commuting.

"Calm down, we'll go out this weekend all right?" Harry suggested easily.

"And what happens if I don't get lucky, crash at your place? I don't think so." Ron snarked.

"Honestly, do you really think Malfoy will hold a grudge over whatever happened?" Harry suggested. If it was a family beef it had to have been years ago since this was the first that Harry had even heard of it.

"Yes." Harry wasn't sure that he had ever heard Ron with that serious of a tone.

…

 _Draco_

Harry was loud which was good, but not exactly necessary. The microphone that Draco had set up in his room would work just fine even if Potter was whispering. He had thought about setting up cameras too, but those were too tricky to keep running all of the time. The microphone was set to only turn on when the door closed. Draco's earbud told him that Potter was on the phone with fucking Ron Weasley of all people. What were the odds of those two being friends? They were talking about him, which was to be expected, and Harry was still stubbornly refusing to learn about his past apparently because the idiot had a dark past of his own. Lovely. Draco sighed chucked off the earbud and turned to his window. Harry technically had the larger room but Draco had an advantage. He got the balcony. He opened his slider and ran towards the railing, hard, before leaping off. There was always a moment when he wondered if he was insane. A moment when he started to fall, to plummet towards the ground, towards death, and he wondered for a moment of this was it. And then the air caught and he was soaring, twisting, rising, rocketing around turns and kicking off walls. The city was new challenge, nothing like the country sides he grew up in. Now, there were windows, people inside: talking, laughing, celebrating. They had no idea that he was here. They had no idea that he was going to free them, free them from everything wrong in this world. He whooped, gliding up, up, up until he was far above the rooftops. He through flips, twirling, corkscrewing up through the clouds. Everything was falling into place and it was all going to be okay.

…

 _Harry_

Campus felt like something out of a movie. Harry showed up a half an hour early for his meeting with his academic advisor. He hadn't chosen a major yet, but he knew that he wanted to do something to help people. What exactly that meant was up in the air. He wasn't looking forward to telling his advisor that. He found the English department's office easily and wound his way to the office of Minerva McGonagall PHD. He waited anxiously, pacing quickly. He glanced at his watch nervously and two minutes to his appointment he knocked.

"Come in." The order was calm and easy and Harry pushed open the door. The woman behind the desk had severe features, thin lips, a high aristocratic nose, and high cheekbones. "Have a biscuit Potter." She offered casually, gesturing to the plate in front of her. Harry sat nervously, grabbing a pastry but not eating it.

"Do you know how many students have gotten full rides in the history of this university?" She asked coolly.

"No ma'am." He admitted, embarrassed. He should probably have known that right. It didn't say anything in the letter.

"Three. Including you." She informed him meaningfully.

"I'm honored ma'am." He explained, blushing and looking at his biscuit.

"I'm sure you are. What is important is that you understand that people will be watching you Mr. Potter, expecting great things." She told him gently.

"I'm…I'm not sure I'll live up to those expectations, I mean, I'm just Harry." He shrugged. There never had been anything remarkable about him: average grades, average participation. The only thing unique about how wasn't exactly something that he could put on college applications.

"Of course, I'm just letting you know that there may be some strange reactions among your professors. I assume that you would prefer to be treated like any other student?" McGonagall checked brusquely.

He nodded vigorously.

"Wonderful. Now, for the matter of your schedule, it says here that you have no idea what you plan to major in, is that still true?" She asked. He blushed, wishing he had a better answer.

"Yes Ma'am," He admitted nervously.

"Well then, we can begin filling your General Education requirements. I recommend you take classes in a wide variety of areas this semester so you can begin exploring your options." She suggested.

"Okay." He shrugged. He hadn't really gotten so far as to think about what classes he was going to take.

"You need to take a freshman year seminar, here is the list of class topics." She handed him a sheet of paper with courses listed in a neat font.

He stared at the list blankly, seeing more courses than he ever could have imagined. He realized after a beat that he was probably taking too long, that most students would have looked up the options on that website that he hadn't had time to sign into yet. He recognized McGonagall's name dizzily and pointed to it before reading the name.

"You would truly like to take my seminar on how King Arthur is depicted through literature?" McGonagall asked skeptically. He cringed internally. "Yes Ma'am." He lied; it was far too late to back up now.

"At eight every Monday morning?" She checked again. He cringed. That sounded like it should have been outlawed by the Geneva Convention.

"Yes Ma'am." He repeated. She raised a perfectly sculpted, highly skeptical eyebrow.

"You can change your mind Potter, I won't be offended." McGonagall assured him. He sighed in relief and nodded profusely.

"Do you have a recommendation?" He asked hopefully to pacify her. "Is it the time?" She asked knowingly. "Yes ma'am." He agreed, blushing.

"One of my colleagues teaches a course on Piracy throughout the ages as a Freshman Seminar, it comes highly recommended and takes place Wednesdays at eleven." She offered helpfully.

"That sounds very interesting." He agreed gratefully.

"Now tell me, do any other courses look interesting?" She asked, handing him the large binder from her desk. He flipped through idly, his eyes swimming as he took in title after title, some of which he didn't even know the meaning of.

"I have no idea." He admitted.

"You should at least take an English class, start there." She suggested.

"I still…" He trailed of, this was terrible, he had no interests.

"Romantic Poetry, very few male students, excellent skill to have." She recommended with a wink, already scribbling it in.

"That's…" Not at all what he wanted. Though, who's to say that poetry won't work just as well on men.

"Intro to Gender studies will fulfill your History requirement and Climate Change as a Social Debate will satisfy your first science requirement." She continued without missing a beat.

"Oh, okay. Thank you." Harry stuttered. She handed him a copy of his schedule. He had no classes on Mondays at all and no classes that started earlier than nine. Wonderful.

"Have a nice day Mr. Potter." She responded dismissively and Harry clumsily left the room, the chair screeching on the floorboards and the door closing too loudly. He leaned against the door nervously, okay, first professional interaction with his advisor, not too bad, right? He groaned and put his head in his hands. The "Hehem" almost made him jump out of his skin.

"What?" Harry gasped, taking note of the primly dressed brunette in front of him.

"If you'll excuse me, I'd rather not be late for my meeting because of your existential crisis." She gestured for him to move over and he hurried to comply.

"Sorry." He stuttered as she closed the door behind her. Something told him that her meeting was going to go much better than his.

…

 _Draco_

"Well I see here that you satisfied a number of core requirements during high school, do you have the official record of those exams so that we can exempt you from those courses?" Draco's academic advisor was a short man with glasses that perched precariously on the tip of his nose. "Professor Flitwick" was written in gold on a cheap name plate that perched messily among the piles of paper on his desk.

"No." Draco cut him off. That was not part of the plan.

"What?" The pixie jumped, looking at him like he had three heads.

"I don't want to use those credits. Put me in English 101, Biology 101, American History 101, and Economics 101." He rattled off easily.

"Those are the exact classes that you'd be exempt from because you took them at a college level in high school." The professor stressed.

"Yes." Draco confirmed.

"Why would you want to take classes when you already know the material?" Flitwick asked, clearly befuddled. "I wouldn't want to strain myself my first semester, would I?" He asked, smirking.

"But Mr. Malfoy" The older man protested, clearly about to squawk something about potential and remarkable SAT scores.

"Thank you professor, I'll be going now." Draco cut him off, not in the mood for that lecture again.

...

 _Harry_

Harry could've skipped as he crossed the quad. There were students under trees, throwing footballs and frisbees, and clubs handing out flyers. A girl stopped him, smiling pleasantly as she did.

"Hey, would you be interested in joining Feminist United?" SHe asked cheerily, holding a yellow flyer out. He took it warily.

"Me?" He asked nervously. He was ninety percent sure he was missing some criteria for that club. He glanced down at the flyer and right across the top was "All Genders Welcome." Guess not.

"Yeah, you look like the type." She shrugged, still smiling, but softer. When she moved her brunette ponytail swung behind her. It was strangely hypnotizing and not in a good way.

"What does that mean?" He asked, genuinely very confused. She raised her eyebrows skeptically, flicking down his scarf, flannel, skinny jeans, and converse.

"You know." She told him confidently before turning away and heading to her next victim. He shoved the flyer in the side pocket of his bag and headed towards that cafe. He wouldn't have classes for two days so he had time to kill.

...

The cafe was busy, packed to the brim with students. Harry sighed and resolved to get his coffee to go. He waited in line anxiously, feeling highly out of place. He felt like bouncing and he really should go for a run one of these days but it would be harder in the city. Along with moving things, he had quickly discovered that he was stronger than he should be. Not crazily so, but for someone who never worked out, he had a little too much ease the first time he tried lifting. As an extension, running was too easy. His legs were strong, he ran fast and hard without any effort and definitely in a way that would attract attention. At home he would run in the woods where no one could see but here he'd have to find another way to relax. The barista cleared his throat suddenly and Harry realized it was probably his turn.

"Vanilla chai latte, large." He ordered quickly and stepped to the side. The coffee was quickly offered and he grabbed it nervously; he was moving for the door when a voice called out to him.

"Hey, freshman!" A voice called. He spun, finding a group of students gathered around a table looking at him expectantly. He pointed to himself warily and a girl with bright red lipstick and blonde hair nodded passionately. He walked over nervously and one of the guys, a blonde haired bloke in a polo pulled out a chair for him. He sat down nervously.

"We need you to settle a debate for us." An African American girl with perfectly curled hair announced. He shrugged.

"How do you define a sandwich?" The blonde asked passionately. Harry looked around for a beat, waiting for someone to start laughing but they continued to stare at him seriously.

"I don't know. The same way as anyone else?" He answered timidly.

"Stuff in between bread?" The blonde suggested.

"How much bread is required?" The bloke added.

"More than one piece?" The African American girl continued.

"What about sub rolls, that's one piece?" The bloke rounded on the girl.

"What differentiates an open faced sandwich from a pizza?" The blonde posed wisely, then they all rounded on him.

"What do you think?" The bloke asked. Harry froze, utterly overwhelmed.

"I think...I think you need two pieces or two connected pieces of bread and I think you need meat." He proposed. The blonde scoffed immediately.

"Meat? What about a PB and J?" She snapped decisively but not angrily.

"That's not nutrition, that's a dessert." Harry pointed out. He had never liked PB and J.

"That's a good point! Are pastries sandwiches?" The guy posed.

"What about wraps?" Harry through in, they all sat up, jumping on these new angles.

Harry wasn't sure but he thought that he may have just made friends.

A/N: Hello all, I hoped you liked this chapter. This fic should move pretty quickly but I'm writing it in between chapters of Dangerous Desires, my main fic, at the moment. I'm well aware that these two would have registered for classes far before the day before classes start but what can I say other than creative license. I'm trying to keep OC's to a minimum here so every character for the most part is based on a character in canon. Bonus points if you can guess who's who.

Please, please, please leave me a review, they keep me going.


	3. Gender and English

_Harry_

The sandwich debate went on for a solid hour before they remembered to introduce themselves. The bloke was Oliver Wood, soccer captain and Young Democrats president. The blonde was Lavender Brown, Editor in Chief of the school newspaper. The black girl was Angelina Johnson, girls' soccer and lacrosse captain. Harry was a little scared of all three of them but they seemed to like him, so it worked. After another thirty, they invited him back to Oliver's apartment. It was a shitty little place with bags of chips on the floor and an American flag banner precariously stuck on the wall but Oliver was proud of it and Harry figured that was what mattered. Angelina and Lavender draped themselves across the couches comfortably, clearly having spent a lot of time there and Harry uneasily settled onto a kitchen chair.

"You smoke, Harry?" Oliver called from the kitchen.

"Sometimes?" He hedged uneasily. The girls laughed but it seemed good natured.

"So once." Lavender guessed. Harry nodded in agreement. Angelina chuckled.

"Want to?" Oliver asked, holding out a lit blunt. Harry shrugged, taking it and inhaling easily. Weed had never really been his thing. It just didn't really affect him, he figured it must have something to with the healing (expedited metabolism maybe?). He passed it to Angelina, who closed her eyes and semi smiled as she took a hit and passed it to Lavender.

"Don't you guys worry about drug tests?" Harry asked curiously. "You know, as athletes?" Angelina laughed.

"No one drug tests a D3 team that's had a losing record for the last twenty years. It would just be cruel." Oliver explained.

"I'm sorry." Harry offered uneasily. That didn't sound pleasant, actually it sounded depressing.

"Eh, it sucks, but we knew it was going to going in." Angelina shrugged casually, displaying remarkable stoicism.

"You should try out." Oliver suggested with a grin as he took his turn and handed Harry the quickly shrinking blunt.

"Why?" Harry asked, laughing at the thought as he passed to Angelina again. "It's a good time, Coach isn't an ass, good way to get to know people, especially since you're not living in a dorm and your roommate sounds like a sociopath." Oliver suggested.

"Good point." Harry conceded, nodding in agreement. "When are tryouts?" He asked curiously. "Day after tomorrow." Oliver shrugged. That, that was soon, not that he was really going to prepare either way.

"How good of a shot do I have of making the team?" He wasn't sure if he wanted to make a fool of himself that many times in one week.

"Pretty good." Oliver decided after a beat.

"You sure?" Harry checked, not quite sure if he believed him. "Have you played before?" Oliver asked earnestly.

"Casually." Every Saturday since his freshman year.

"Oh yeah, you're a shoo in." Oliver assured him easily. Harry laughed.

"Why do I not believe you?" He asked. Lavender and Angelina burst into laughter.

"Because you, Harry Potter, are a smart bloke." Lavender told him.

…

 _Draco_

Harry was late. Draco had been waiting on the couch for the other guy to get home for hours. He couldn't leave until Potter had seen that he was home. It was the only way to make sure that he had an alibi and if the bespeckled moron was going to fuck that up, Draco would kill him. At almost eleven, Draco heard the key in the door. He quickly picked up his phone, faking being engrossed in his Twitter feed. When the door opened, Draco got hit in the face with a cloud of weed. Draco didn't smoke, hadn't wanted to risk floating up to the ceiling if he got high. He wasn't sure how well that would go.

"Hey, how was your first day?" Harry asked, a dopey smile on his face. Draco rolled his eyes.

"Don't fucking smoke in my apartment." Draco ordered, storming into his room. It was too late to leave now, he had to get some sleep.

...

Gender studies was strange. Harry wandered into the oak building with wide eyes. He was greeted by a large set of stairs which he climbed reluctantly as his backpack bounced against the base of his spine. His morning had been weird. Draco had left long before Harry had gotten out of bed and Harry had almost broken the coffee maker before throwing on a scarf and going to his new favorite café. He hadn't had time to linger and now his iced caramel macchiato was cold in his hands.

Harry entered his Gender Studies class with the surreal realization that the semester was going to be really strange.

It started as he stumbled just before the class was set to start. The room was a lecture hall and Harry slid into the first chair closest to the exit. He tried not to think of it as planning an easy escape route. The person next to him was a girl whose face was mostly obscured with a riot of curls. He glanced at his notebook, a five subject spiral bound 1.50 investment that looked pitiful next to the girl's pristine yellow binder with notebook paper, dividers, highlights, and sticky notes already set up.

He reached into his bag uneasily, horrified at the realization that he had forgot to put that box of pens back in when he had unpacked in bag the night before. People around him were chatting animatedly and the professor hadn't arrived yet so he awkwardly leaned over and whispered to the girl next to him.

"Hey, um, hate to bother you, but could I... um...could I borrow a pen?" He asked uncomfortably.

"You forgot a pen?" She asked slowly as she pushed her hair over her shoulder, raising one perfectly sculpted eyebrow.

"Yeah." Harry confirmed, feeling his face heat with embarrassment.

"On the first day?" She asked as if it was entirely implausible to make a tiny mistake on your first day of college.

"Guess so." He agreed dryly. Her eyes got wide and horrified as she blushed violently.

"I'm sorry, that probably sounded judgmental. I'm really not judgmental. I promise." She blurted anxiously. Her fingers drummed on the table in front of him and her leg bounced uneasily.

"Okay. Can I get that pen?" He repeated, uncertain what was going on here. She seemed a little nuts if he was being honest.

"Of course!" She answered a little breathily, whipping a pen out of the organizer in the front pocket of her bag.

"Thanks" he muttered uncomfortably, hoping to end this conversation quickly.

"I heard the professor's really good." The girl offered, thriving on feeling useful apparently.

"That's good I guess." Harry shrugged. He wasn't even really sure why he was here.

"I was doing some research over the summer and his courses are some of the highest recommended in the Humanities department." She continued eagerly. Apparently researching courses was a thing that people did. Harry felt even worse for his advisor now.

"Ah." Harry nodded noncommittally, not really sure what he was supposed to say.

"Do you know what you're majoring in?" She asked eagerly, her eyes lit up.

"Um not yet." Harry admitted. He had a feeling that that was not the right answer.

"Well that's understandable. There are just so many interesting directions to go you know? I think I'm going PreLaw but Anthropology is just so interesting and I really enjoy chemistry and wow I'm rambling." She blushed and laughed awkwardly, running her hands through her hair again.

"Little bit yeah" He chuckled. She was a bit… much… but she seemed relatively harmless. Relatively.

"Oh gosh you must think I'm such a nerd." She blushed again. Her head dipping down as color rose onto her cheeks.

"Um" he was spared from answering as the professor entered. The girl beside him sat up stick straight before deliberately slumping slightly. The professor straightened the papers in his hand before distributing them to the first row. They slowly made their way back and Harry blinked dizzily as the thick syllabus thudded down in front of him. He couldn't even picture himself doing all of this work, didn't think there were enough hours in the day. He looked up in a daze. The professor was tall, with light brown hair, large glasses, and a green and yellow bow tie. He wore a tweed jacket over a white button up and jeans. He cleared his throat and the class snapped to attention.

"Gender is a binary. Raise your hand if you agree." He called out calmly. Harry slowly raised his hand, not quite sure if that was a trick question or not. He paled as he realized that his was one of only four hands in the room. The girl beside him sent him a pitying glance.

"How many of you four have researched this subject?" The Professor continued. Harry and two other hands fell. "Okay. Three of you represent the majority of the population. I promise you that over the course of these next few weeks, you will be informed on the debate, you may change your mind, you may not. Both are perfectly viable conclusions." He was strolling along the front easily and he paused in front of the section where the one remaining hand was still raised, the student sitting up straight and staring the professor down obstinately. "You, my friend, probably thought you were going to spend all semester picking fights. That is not the point of this class. All opinions will be respected in my class or you will be asked to leave and not return. Is this understood?" A chorus of nods spread around the room. "All right then. Let's dive into the syllabus shall we?"

Harry was still a little in awe as he looked down at the name printed boldly across the top of the document: _Remus Lupin, PHD_.

"We will be focusing on gender in terms of using it as a lens to analyze history. Gender roles and perceived deviance will feature heavily as will movements focused on gender. Many people come into this class assuming that we will spend the entire time talking about Second Wave feminism and Cait Jenner. This is not that class. This is an introductory course designed to give you a solid foundation to work off of. You can take more focused classes later." He finished with a grin that earned a chuckled from the class as a whole.

"Now I assume you all can read, whether you will read is entirely up to you. Stay on deadlines, I do not accept work late without a very reasonable excuse brought to me beforehand whenever possible. There will be many readings due throughout the course of the class. You should have them read and analyzed before the start of each class. I am sure you've heard from many of your peers about professors who only give grades for the midterm and finals. I will provide a grade every single day based on your contribution to the discussion. Now, I understand for some of you, participation grades are the bane of your existence and I will try to respect that. If you can only legitimately manage one or two contributions a class for whatever reason, if you turn in a thoroughly annotated reading at the end of class and the discussion is flowing well, you will receive full credit for the day. If you ditch my class, you get a zero, if you fall asleep in my class I leave the room and provide your peers with sharpies." The boisterous burst of laughter at that was a good ice breaker. Even the girl beside him chuckled. "If you are struggling or have any questions, please stop by my office. Hours are listed on the back of the last page. Everyone flipped over the packet and another chuckled erupted as they saw the phrase "literally all the time, I keep a pillow in the top desk drawer."

"A lot of first year students have the mistaken impression that their professors are infallible geniuses who can barely stand their students. I do my best to dispel that notion." He smiled warmly at them and Harry got the distinct impression that he was going to enjoy this class. "Here are tonight's readings, make sure you have them ready for Friday. I'm also giving you the readings that are due next Monday because I understand that weekends are not exactly an easy time to buckle down and work for college students." There was another chuckle. "I don't believe in textbooks because I think they are unreasonably expensive and my source material is too eclectic to make it a reasonable demand so, after these readings, I will be posting all of the readings on the university's sharing service, make sure you have an account. If you are planning on joining the discussion, you need not print out the source material, I have enough of the Amazon on my conscience, please just export to Google Docs and edit it there. Now, any questions?"

Harry caught movement out of the corner of his eye. The girl's hand twitched once, twice. She clearly wanted to ask something. Uneasily, she shifted, shoving her hands under her legs. That was a little concerning.

The Professor scanned the audience and seeing nothing, shrugged.

"All right then, who here can give me a concrete definition of the word 'Gender?'" Lupin started. The girls whole arm twitched.

"Jesus, just raise your hand." Harry muttered, losing patience.

"What?" The girl hissed, not looking away from Lupin.

"If you have an answer, raise your hand, that's the whole point of this exercise." Harry hissed back.

"My friend in the back! This is a discussion based class, therefore if you have something to say, you share. So please, share." Harry blushed, squirming uncomfortably and resisting the urge to glare at the girl who got him into this mess.

"Sex? As in the state of being biologically male or female?" Harry suggested meekly. Someone across the room snorted. Lupin glared in the general direction.

"Believe it or not, outside of liberal college campuses that is the dominant opinion, but if this were a class where we were supposed to leave the dominant opinion unquestioned I would be grossly overpaid. For our purposes, that is the definition of sex, which, even by the most strictly biological definitions is not always binary. So, who else has a definition of gender?" Lupin continued as Harry nodded eagerly. Jeez, he had a lot to learn.

A timid hand was raised across the room and heavyset girl with dirty blonde hair in a bun spoke up as the professor nodded to her.

"What you identify as and how you view yourself." She offered. Harry felt his nose crinkle. If he knew he could be that general he would've made far less of a fool of himself.

"I have one question for you, is it just a personal thing, a self-identifier or is there a group aspect to gender?" Lupin pressed gently. She tilted her head, taking a beat to think.

"I'd say there's a group aspect." The girl corrected pensively.

"I'd say so as well." Lupin agreed. She nodded, pleased with herself. He continued eagerly, "Now, I've been teaching this class for a long time and I have my PHD in sociology, and even I'll admit the definition I have isn't as clear as I would like."

He turned to the board, picking up a piece of purple chalk and tracing out the words in straight, neat print. "The behavioral, cultural, or psychological traits loosely associated with the sexes." He read aloud.

"Now, when I talk about these traits it's important not to dwell on the traditional associations. This is really a class about identity and how our culture teaches us to classify ourselves and each other. Now, I want you to think about that as you analyze the readings. I will see you all Friday." He announced, a clear dismissal. The students started to gather their books and the girl beside him turned to him uneasily, her eyebrows knitted together.

"I'm really sorry about that, by the way." She started, gesturing vaguely towards the professor.

"Just, please raise your hand next time. This class is going to get painful if I have to say things every day." He offered, exhausted. She smiled with relief.

"Will do." She presented her hand cheerily. "Hermione Granger." He shook it firmly, impressed that her grip was just as strong.

"Harry Potter." He told her.

"See you around Harry." She smiled before bounding down the steps purposefully, no doubt on her way to another class where she'd know the answer and not contribute. He lifted his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose and sighed.

Harry shoved his notebook and the borrowed pen into his bag. It was a little weird to go from having class all day to being done by one but Harry could definitely get used to it. As he slowly descended the stairs he realized he was the last one left. He felt his face color a little and nodded towards the professor.

"Wait a moment?" The older man called and Harry cringed as he turned in the doorway, stepping back into the class. "What's your name, son?" The professor asked gently.

"Harry Potter." Harry stuck his hand out and Lupin shook it firmly.

"I'd like to thank you for being a good sport today, I'm assuming you hadn't planned on taking this class originally?" Lupin asked, smiling softly.

"No sir. I'm afraid I hadn't planned any of my classes ahead of time, though, if it makes you feel better?" Harry offered warily.

"Is Minerva McGonagle your advisor?" Lupin guessed.

"Um yes, sir." Harry jumped in surprise, not expecting this turn of conversation.

"Well then, you're in excellent hands." Lupin assured him with a smile before going back to his notes.

"Thank you, sir." Harry muttered, uneasily slipping out of the classroom, not sure what was going on.

…

 _Draco_

English 101 was a brainless exercise for brainless morons who could barely hold a pen, let alone break down a sentence, but it was over by ten and that was what was important. Draco walked out of the English building, one of those cliché monstrosities that were built in the 70's but tried to pretend they had Oxford's legacy. There was a girl outside the building holding bright orange flyers. She took a half a step forward before making eye contact with him and turning away. Draco could admit he didn't project a welcoming aura. At the moment, his black hoodie was pulled over his head and he had his hands in the front pocket of his jeans. He was well aware he was a bad, angsty cliché but there were worse things and it's not like he cared about any of these moron's opinions. His fingers were twitching, drumming on his thigh. He got like that when he hadn't flown in a while but it had been getting worse lately. The plan was so close that it was getting harder and harder to wait. He could taste the victory on his tongue.

A/N: Hello all, I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, Professor!Remus was a ball and Naive!Harry is super easy to write for some reason. Please drop me a review and let me know what you think. :) I put a lot of thought into Hermione in this chapter and I know she may seem a little OCC but rest assured more of her backstory in this verse will be revealed and it will explain a lot.


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